


Don't Go 'Round Tonight

by Casei_Solus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casei_Solus/pseuds/Casei_Solus
Summary: Dean trying to care for and comfort Sam at three points in his life.





	Don't Go 'Round Tonight

Days ago. 

Dad should have been back _days_ ago. 

Yet Dean could never let on that he was worried, not with a four-year-old Sammy in his care. So Dean sat there in that dark motel room, lit only by an ancient tv playing reruns of _Gilligan’s Island_ , pretending not to have a care in the world. This faux indifference usually worked wonders. 

But then again, Dad had never been this late. 

“...Did Dad leave us?” Sammy asked, looking up at him with fear in his eyes. 

“No, Sammy, Dad didn’t leave us. He’ll probably be back before you wake up tomorrow.”

“That’s what you said yesterday!” he sniffled. “He’s never coming back, is he?”

Dean swallowed. “C’mon, Sammy, just go to bed and leave me alone.”

“You’re scared, too.”

“No, I’m not!” Dean said, angrily. “Just go to bed, okay?!”

Little Sammy shrunk at his tone, turning his gaze to the floor. He gave Dean a silent nod as he toddled over to his bed, climbing in. There he stayed among the sheets, afraid to ask Dean anything.

However, during next commercial break, Dean got up and tucked him in with a huff. To his surprise, though, Sam took hold of his fingers.

“Did Dad leave ‘cause I was bad? Does he not want me anymore?” Sam said, tears falling from his big eyes.

“No, no, Sam,” Dean said, holding his little brother closely. “Dad’ll be back. He prolly got stuck somewhere.”

Sam sniffled, lost in silence for a moment. “...Okay,” he said, but he didn’t let go of his big brother’s fingers. “Do you wanna leave me, too?”

“No, no, of course not, Sammy,” Dean said, softly. “Hey, how about we turn on your favorite radio station? Will that help you sleep?”

Little Sam perked up at the suggestion, and Dean couldn’t help but smile as he turned on the clock radio, switching it to soft rock.

Sam mustered a smile upon hearing the sound, shimmying into the bed and gripping tighter to Dean’s fingers.

So long as he wasn’t alone, he could sleep.

So long as he wasn’t alone, Sam was going to be okay.

________________________________________

Sam started awake in the passenger’s seat, panting and sweating in the dim glow of the passing streetlights.

“Hey, hey!” Dean said, reaching over to calm him down. “Slow down, cowboy, no one’s shooting at you,” he said, feigning aloofness with a smirk. In reality, ever since Jess’s death almost a week ago, Sam hadn’t been able to get a full night’s rest. Sometimes he would wake up all through the night, tossing and turning. 

Other times, he was… like this.

“Ugh,” Sam groaned, rubbing his face. “I think I’d prefer being shot at.”

“So I can rescue you again?” he said, flicking his ear. 

“Shut up,” he said, hitting his brother in the shoulder. “And watch the road; I don’t need to worry about you, too.”

“Me? Naw, I ain’t going anywhere,” Dean said with a chuckle. “You of all people know I’m probably the hardest person to kill within a hundred miles.”

Sam snorted. “Hardest to _live with_ , maybe.”

“Hey, how about you go back to sleep and let me have a moment’s peace, alright? It’s 3AM.”

“Then I should take over - it’s my shift.”

“Or we pull over and find a place to rest for the night?” Dean suggested hopefully.

“No, we can’t fall any further behind Dad. Just let me take over.”

“Uh-uh, no. One, I’m fine, and two, you and I both know you barely got any sleep.”

“Oh, like I’ll get more?”

“You’d better.”

“Pfft.”

“Hey, hey, look, look,” Dean said, switching the radio channel and turning the volume up a bit. “Soft rock! Nothing puts you down like Baby’s purr and Fogerty’s voice. C’mon, just try.”

Sam shot him a dirty look. “Whatever, dude. But if I can’t sleep, I’m taking over. Got it?”

“Ah, Sammy. Always making bets you can’t win.”

Sam annoyedly shook his head, too tired to argue. Instead, he collapsed into the seat with a huff and shimmied into his favorite sleeping position before going still.

Dean stole a glance at Sam’s now-peaceful face and let out a sigh of relief. Sam’s drive for revenge was pushing them hard, and Dean couldn’t deny that it scared him. Not that he didn’t want to find Dad, but… the look in Sammy’s eyes. Sometimes Dean couldn’t even recognize them. 

But, like this, asleep in the passenger’s seat, Dean could almost pretend that everything was going to be alright.

That Sam was going to be okay.

________________________________________

Days. 

Sam hadn’t slept in _days._

Twisted visions haunted his every waking moment, so that by now the only thing he seemed to eat or drink was triple red eyes. Sam’s hands jittered, he was constantly skittish, he couldn’t focus. Slowly but surely, he was falling apart.

And Dean was terrified. Terrified because he knew.

Sam wasn’t going to last much longer.

But Dean couldn’t focus on that. He couldn’t. He just had to keep from breaking down. Had to _keep going._

That’s why he was driving some old pickup they’d grabbed back in Idaho, with Sam next to him, eyes shut, relaxed into the seat as best as he could in the cramped cabin. Dean’d tried to help any way he knew how. At the last gas station, he’d picked up some of the good pills, fixed the seat so Sam could lean back a couple inches further, and had the radio playing some calming CCR. Dean was even driving carefully - taking every curve of these roads slowly and gently so as not to disturb his brother. A couple cars’d started lining up behind him on the winding highway, but Dean didn’t care, tailgaters could kiss his ass, Sam was going to get some sleep, even if it-

_**BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP** _

“What? What?” Sam said, jumping up in the passenger’s seat.

“Son of a-” Dean whispered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “It’s just some asshole behind us - go back to sleep.”

But Sam kept staring at him, eyes wide. “Who’re you? Where...?!”

“What is it? What’s wrong, Sammy?” He said, watching as his brother tried in vain to squeeze his now-healed hand. “Sammy, I’m right here, it’s me,” he said, reaching over and gripping his brother’s arm tightly. “I’m right here, I’m right here.”

Sam flinched at the touch before looking down at Dean’s hand, taking in a deep breath. “…Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Did you get any sleep?”

Sam quietly shook his head.

“Well how ‘bout you lean back, try to get a few-”

“It won’t work, Dean.”

“Well just _try_ then!” Dean said, louder than he meant to. “Sorry, I,” he continued, “can’t you just,” he swallowed, “try?”

Sam said nothing, but he did lean back in his seat, facing away from him. 

“Just… don’t leave me alone, okay?” he finally said.

Silently, Dean turned up the volume on the soft rock before patting Sam’s shoulder.

“‘Course not, Sammy,” he said, hiding the fear in his voice.

Fear because, in some part of him, he knew.

Sam wasn’t going to be okay.

Not at all.


End file.
